


should I keep my ticket after (or should I just go?)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Enthusiastic Consent, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Riding, i've been saying kc deserves to get railed so, just a little bit, this is just like really Filthy, you know what they say about double the connors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22977418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Connor shuts out the Caps in a 3-0 win for the first star honors. As his reward, he gets to pick anyone on the team for the night.He picks Kyle. Obviously.(connor does nothing in moderation.)
Relationships: Kyle Connor/Connor Hellebuyck, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109





	should I keep my ticket after (or should I just go?)

**Author's Note:**

> this is the classic "first star gets to pick somebody to fuck" verse. of course everything is still consensual and could be stopped Whenever. nothing skeevy going on. or at least. nothing too skeevy. they're still fucking in the locker room so uh, that's kind of skeevy actually. whatever.
> 
> this is partly miranda's fault for tweeting about kc sucking helle's dick in the locker room after that shutout vs the caps on thursday because i couldn't stop thinking about it after. ended up messaging her repeatedly about this concept to share my distress, then wrote it in a few hours instead of studying for midterms. ah, well. i've also been wanting to write one of those first star gets to pick somebody etc etc for w WHILE so thanks helle!
> 
> title from "tah dah" by mika

Connor gets first star. Of course he does; he got a shutout, after all. Thirty-four saves. It’s far from the first time this season he’s been first star. This is his fifth shutout, and he’s had the honors more besides.

Kyle looks over at him while Mark and Dmitry do their laps. Connor is looking back. His helmet is off and his hands are bare. His eyes are dark. Kyle swallows hard, watches Connor catch Mark’s arm as he comes off the ice, saying something to him quietly. He only looks away from Kyle when it’s his turn to go onto the ice.

The roar of the crowd rings in Kyle’s ears. 

Mark crosses the distance between them, looking amused. “He picked you,” he says, not wasting any time.

Kyle licks his lips, nods. “Did he, um. Did he tell you what he wants?”

“He wants you ready when he’s done getting his gear off,” Mark says. His cheeks flush a little, like he’s suddenly embarrassed to talk about it. “He wants you to open yourself up for him.”

Kyle’s breath catches in his throat. “Here?” he whispers.

“If you don’t want to—”

“No,” Kyle interrupts. “It’s okay, I was just. Surprised.” It’s not unheard of, doing this in the locker room; Blake tends to do it here, like he wants to share his reward with the rest of the guys. Still, every time it’s been Connor’s choice, they’ve gone back to his place. Kyle is used to that. Connor has picked him a few times before.

Mark grins. “In that case, you’d better get going,” he says.

Kyle curses and almost runs down the hallway to the locker room while Mark laughs at him and follows at a more sedate pace. He strips out of his gear quickly, grabbing a towel and the lube they keep in the room for nights like tonight. Just before media is allowed in, Kyle ducks into the showers.

They’ll be empty for a while. Kyle turns the water on and rinses away the worst of the sweat. He’s already half-hard with anticipation, his heart thumping behind his ribs. He doesn’t bother shutting the water off before drying off briskly and opening the lube with a snap. His throat is dry and the steam makes it harder to breathe.

He kneels on his damp towel, one hand in front of him to brace himself as he leans forward, the other hand slick with lube as he reaches behind himself to press his fingers over his hole. 

His soft gasp is muffled by the sound of the water, but he bites his lip hard to muffle any other noises that might try to escape him. He slips his index finger inside, then doesn’t waste any time before adding another. He doesn’t have time to try to make himself feel good. This is strictly for efficiency’s sake.

Despite this, he has to press his lips together to prevent himself from moaning when he grazes his prostate. He breathes in through his nose and adds more lube, then slides a third finger inside.

He fucks himself with his fingers, spreading them to open himself up as well as he can, using more lube than is probably necessary. He cants his hips back against his hand, fingers curling against the floor. The shower is loud, but he can hear the quiet, wet sounds of his fingers pushing lube into himself. His face burns and he drops his head forward, his messy hair falling in front of him like a curtain.

Arousal scorches his insides like a wildfire. Connor is going to fuck him. Connor is going to fuck him in front of the _ team. _ Kyle has been picked by other guys before, but nobody knows how to take him apart as well as Connor. They’ll all see how desperate he is for it.

“KC.” 

With effort, Kyle looks up. Blake is standing at the shower entrance, arms crossed over his bare chest. 

“Mmh,” Kyle manages. He curls his fingers. Wets his lips. “Yeah?”

“It’s time,” Blake says, and he goes back into the locker room.

Kyle pulls his fingers out with a wince and a whine. He washes his hands under the showerhead before turning off the water. He grabs the lube and shuffles back into the room, naked.

His skin is too hot. He can feel how wet he is with every step, how _ open _ he is. He keeps his eyes lowered. He knows where Connor’s stall is. He doesn’t have to look to know how to get there.

Connor is sitting in his stall, knees apart and a tiny smirk playing over his lips. He’s naked, but the way he’s sitting makes it seem no different than if he’d been wearing a three piece suit. His cock is hard. “Hi, KC,” he says. He doesn’t call him _ Kyle. _ He only calls him that when they’re alone. “Are you still okay with this?”

Kyle nods. “Yes,” he says. His voice cracks a little.

“Good,” Connor murmurs. He looks Kyle up and down slowly, his dark eyes hot and piercing. “You opened yourself up for me?”

The locker room, which had until now been filled with the usual post-game noise, falls silent. Kyle doesn’t turn to look, but he knows every eye is on him now.

A tiny tremor runs up Kyle’s spine. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Good,” Connor repeats. He holds out a hand and Kyle passes him the lube. His fingers brush against Kyle’s when he takes it. Those long, clever fingers that Kyle wants inside him any way he can have them. Connor coats the fingers of one hand with lube and pats his thigh.

Kyle stumbles forward and almost falls into his lap, legs spread on either side of Connor’s thighs. He buries his face in Connor’s shoulder, breathing raggedly.

Connor pets his hair and hushes him gently. “It’s okay,” he says, then his free hand dips to Kyle’s ass and he slides three fingers inside Kyle.

Kyle jerks against him, unable to stop himself from moaning. He clutches at Connor’s shoulders, trying to hang on to something, _ anything. _

Connor thrusts his fingers slowly, almost lazily, then pulls them out again. He kisses Kyle’s temple. “Good job,” he says. “You opened yourself up so well for me, baby.”

Kyle whimpers. “Connor,” he says, muffled into Connor’s skin, “please.”

“Mm.” Connor nudges at his shoulder until Kyle sits up again, giving Connor some space to spread lube onto his cock. Connor wipes his hand clean when he’s finished. “Here’s what’s going to happen, KC,” he says. “You’re going to ride me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Kyle says, nodding quickly. He likes that, likes being able to sink into Connor’s lap and let Connor fill him up, likes that he has some illusion of control like that because it’s so much _ better _ when Connor proves him wrong.

“But,” Connor says, sharp, “you’re going to face the room.”

Kyle’s heart skips a beat. “What,” he says, his voice barely louder than a breath. “I—I, um.”

Objectively, he knew everyone would be watching this. But he’d assumed, maybe naively, that Connor would let Kyle focus on him and he wouldn’t have to think about everyone seeing.

Connor curls a hand around his wrist and squeezes, almost tight enough to hurt. Kyle sucks in a breath and focuses on the ache.

“KC,” Connor says. He grips Kyle’s thigh in one hand and cups his cheek in the other so Kyle has to look him in the eyes. “Tell me if this isn’t okay.”

“No, it’s….” Kyle exhales, releasing some of his tension. “I want. Um. I want that. Please.”

Connor brushes a thumb over his cheekbone, an unusually tender gesture that feels somewhat out of place in this context. Then he drops his hand. Tilts his head. “Go on, then,” he says.

Legs shaking, Kyle pushes himself out of Connor’s lap and turns to face the room. His skin is red with humiliation and arousal. Everyone is looking at him. He almost flinches when Connor’s hands close around his hips, tugging him back so he can arrange Kyle how he wants.

Connor kisses his spine and, slowly, Kyle lowers himself down. A moan punches out of him at the first press of Connor’s cock. He grasps at Connor’s wrists, trying to brace himself.

“Connor,” he gasps, “Connor, Con—oh, _ oh.” _ He chokes back a cry as Connor pulls him down, sheathing himself deep inside while Kyle shakes on top of him.

Connor drags his palms up Kyle’s sides while he waits for him to adjust. Kyle reminds himself to breathe, inhaling sharply and trying to hold himself steady.

He looks up.

The first person he sees is Jack, sitting between Mason and Jansen. His draft class buddies. His friends. They’re all looking at him with wide eyes and open mouths. Kyle thinks Mason might be drooling a little bit. Jack grins when he catches him looking, though, and Kyle feels much better.

Patrik is gone, probably off to get some tests done on his leg, but Nikolaj is still here anyway. His eyes flick over Kyle’s body indecisively, like he can’t decide where to look. He bites his bottom lip and slides a hand under the waistband of his leggings and Kyle looks away.

Blake is jerking himself slowly, probably trying to make himself last. Mark is rubbing his palm over the front of his leggings, thighs spread and lips red where he’s been biting them. Neal is just watching for now, but he’s obviously hard and probably won’t wait much longer.

Dylan and Cody are both new and while their old teams might’ve had different systems, they both seem pretty enthusiastic so far. Dylan’s eyes are focused on Kyle’s shaking thighs, like he wants to watch the effort Kyle is going to put into this.

It’s too much. Kyle lets his head fall forward, hiding his face from view. He’s overwhelmed; by Connor inside him, by everyone watching, by Connor’s hands firm on his hips to keep him from moving.

“KC,” Connor says, something low and dangerous in his voice. He curls one hand into Kyle’s hair and pulls his head back, wrenching a gasp from Kyle’s chest. “Don’t hide.”

“I’m—I didn’t—” Kyle’s head is swimming. His fingers flex weakly on Connor’s wrist.

“You did,” Connor says. His fingers tighten in Kyle’s hair. “But that’s okay. I understand. This is a lot for you, right?”

Kyle nods as well as he can with Connor’s hand in his hair.

“I’m not upset,” Connor tells him, and Kyle almost goes limp with relief. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Promise.” Kyle’s voice wobbles.

“And don’t close your eyes, either,” Connor adds as an afterthought. He releases Kyle’s hair and takes his hips again. “Come on, now.”

Kyle takes a deep breath and slowly, shakily, lifts himself up until only the head of Connor’s cock is holding him open. He sinks back down a lot faster than the first time and bites his lip hard enough to hurt to keep himself from crying out.

“Aw, KC,” Jack says, teasing, “don’t be like that.”

Kyle manages to muster enough brainpower to glare at him, but Jack just laughs and tilts his head back so Mason can kiss his throat.

Connor bites Kyle’s shoulder _ hard, _ hard enough that it’s going to leave a pretty significant bruise. “Don’t muffle yourself,” he scolds. “Let us hear you."

The next time Kyle sinks back onto Connor’s cock, he lets himself cry out, the sound catching in his chest and breaking in his throat to emerge as a shattered noise. Connor murmurs quiet praise into his shoulder, but Kyle doesn’t know what he’s saying. He can’t really process words right now.

Kyle’s sweaty fingers slip on Connor’s wrists and his thighs burn with the strain, but he chases the feeling of Connor’s cock against his prostate with increasing desperation.

Every time Connor bottoms out, Kyle loses more of his self-control. He thinks, dimly, that he might be begging for it now, pleading words slipping out of his mouth in between moans and gasps.

“If only you could see yourself right now,” Connor murmurs, soft enough that Kyle is the only one to hear, “if only you could see how desperate you are. Everyone else sees it, you know. They’ll all remember how easily you fall apart.”

Kyle shudders. “Please,” he whines, not even sure what he’s asking for.

Connor kisses him behind his ear. “Slut,” he breathes. He always knows what Kyle needs.

Kyle’s whole body jerks and his legs spread farther apart, trying to get Connor deeper. He whines, pleading, not caring about how needy he must seem. How needy he _is._ _Slut._ Kyle trembles.

Nobody teases him anymore. Aside from the noise Kyle is making, the only sounds in the room are ragged breathing, the slick sound of guys jerking themselves off, the slap of skin on skin when Kyle drops back onto Connor’s lap.

“Connor,” he whimpers, “I need, _ ah, _ mmh, need to come, _ please.” _ He reaches down to take his cock in his hand, but Connor grabs his wrist with lightning speed and pulls both arms behind his back. It’s easy for Connor to hold both Kyle’s wrists in place with a single big hand.

“You come like this,” Connor says, “or you don’t come at all.”

Kyle _ sobs, _ helpless and humiliated but unable to hide his face as tears burn his eyes before dripping down his cheeks. He’s so hard it almost hurts, heat building inside him as he gets closer to the edge. He can’t come, not yet, and he ignores the pain in his thighs and he works his hips down to get Connor’s cock to hit his prostate every time.

He squeezes around Connor’s cock, trying to get him to come, too, and Connor curses and bites his shoulder again.

Connor lets go of Kyle’s wrists, knowing that Kyle will leave his hands where they are, and he reaches around with one hand to drag his fingers over Kyle’s nipples. He catches one between his thumb and forefinger and pinches.

Kyle comes with a cry, his back arched obscenely as he presses his chest into Connor’s hand and his head falling back onto Connor’s shoulder. His chest heaves with gasping sobs.

“Well done,” Connor says. “Now keep going.”

Kyle twitches. He can’t really think right now. He’s shivery and oversensitive and he can hardly move but Connor wants him to _ keep going? _ “Wha’,” Kyle mumbles, trying to swallow and wet his throat.

Connor’s fingers dig into his hips. “Make me come, KC,” he says. The only sign that he’s even remotely affected is the strain in his voice, like he’s stopping himself from throwing Kyle down and fucking him properly. He presses a biting kiss to the side of Kyle’s throat. “I’m being lenient because you got a goal and an assist tonight. That was good. But this is _ my _reward.”

So, slowly, Kyle starts moving again. He clenches weakly, whimpering with every shocky burst of pleasure-pain that arcs up his spine when Connor’s cock drags inside him. It’s too much. Tears slip free again, soaking his cheeks.

Then, finally, Connor’s hips stutter up into Kyle and he comes with a soft groan. His come is wet and hot inside Kyle and it drips down his thighs when Connor lifts him off. 

Kyle doesn’t think he can move.

Connor helps him decide what he’s supposed to do now. He leans forward, lowering Kyle to the floor. “Elbows and knees,” he says. His voice is soft, but it’s still a command.

Kyle is his for the night. He gets on his knees and elbows, his knees spread enough to display his hole. He buries his face in his forearms and listens to the locker room come back to life around him.

A few guys stop near him, brushing fingers through his hair or over his spine.

Nikolaj kneels beside him and curls a hand around the back of his neck, waiting for Kyle to show his tearstained face. He’s holding his phone.

“Patrik couldn’t be here,” Nikolaj says, and Kyle knows what he wants immediately. “Can I—”

“Yes,” Kyle says, his voice hoarse. He turns his face away and listens to Nikolaj shuffle behind him. He gasps when Nikolaj’s fingers press against his hole, two sliding inside easily. 

Nikolaj holds him open and there’s a pause while he takes his pictures. More come drips free, sliding over his balls and thighs. Kyle pushes his face into his hands, mouth falling open on a silent moan, then Nikolaj’s hand disappears and he pats Kyle’s hip before walking away.

The locker room empties gradually, and Kyle stays where he is until Connor helps him stand. His legs are still so wobbly that it’s hard to walk by himself, so Connor wraps an arm around him and leads him to the showers.

Kyle closes his eyes and drifts while Connor washes him off, cleaning away all the sweat, lube and come. Connor whispers to him comfortingly when he dips his fingers into Kyle’s hole to wash away his own come, and Kyle shakes and clings to his shoulders.

Connor dresses Kyle in his own workout clothes, speeding up the getting-dressed process significantly since Kyle’s fingers are still too clumsy to manage the buttons on his suit. “You’re coming home with me,” Connor says decisively.

The drive to Connor’s isn’t long, but Kyle leans his head against the window and dozes while the streetlights pass in a blur. Connor has to come around the car to help him get out once they arrive, an amused smile on his face.

Kyle curls up on the couch as soon as they get inside. Tinley trots over, panting excitedly, and hops onto the couch to lie on top of Kyle.

“Oof,” Kyle says, the weight of a fully grown Malamute squashing him a little. It’s not exactly unpleasant; Tinley’s just like a heavy, extremely fluffy, slightly smelly blanket. He rubs Tinley’s ears fondly.

He stays like that for a few minutes, slowly being smothered by the cheerfully oblivious dog, then he hears Connor’s footsteps.

“Shoo,” Connor says, and Tinley hops off of Kyle and pads away. Unfortunately, Tinley used Kyle’s stomach as a springboard, so Kyle can’t quite speak just yet. Connor raises an eyebrow while the wheezing subsides. He’s holding a steaming mug, which he hands to Kyle when he sits up. It’s tea.

Kyle blows on it and takes a careful sip. It’s perfect; made exactly how he likes it. He smiles gratefully at Connor.

Connor sits beside him and massages the back of Kyle’s neck while he drinks his tea. It feels so good, relaxing him until he’s loose and lax and limp.

Kyle sets the mug down when he’s done and Connor pulls him upright. They’re not done yet.

Connor presses him face down onto the bed, kissing his shoulders and back soft and light until he slicks his cock and pushes inside.

Kyle exhales, his eyes fluttering shut. It’s so good; he’s been feeling too empty since Connor pulled out the first time, so this is nice. This is perfect.

Connor fucks him slowly, deeply, brushing Kyle’s hair out of the way so he can kiss his neck. Kyle doesn’t get so loud this time, all the big noises already fucked out of him, but he gasps softly every time Connor grinds in.

“You were so good for me,” Connor tells him, “for the team. You took it so well. I bet you’d let all of them take turns if they could, wouldn’t you? You want it so bad.” He rolls his hips against Kyle.

Kyle nods against the pillow, a flush spreading down his shoulders. “Mmhm,” he manages. He _ would, _ he knows he would. He’d let the whole team use him if they wanted it. He spreads his legs a little wider. 

“Thought so,” Connor says, brushing his lips over Kyle’s shoulders. “You liked it when I called you a slut, didn’t you, because it’s true.”

Kyle’s breathing stutters and he chokes out another affirmative, rutting against the mattress. The sheet is wet and slippery with his precome. 

“But you’re mine tonight,” Connor says, and he thrusts in deep.

Kyle sinks his teeth into the pillowcase and comes. _ Mine. _ His vision dims a little, and he comes around to Connor coming inside him for the second time tonight.

Connor pulls out gently. Kyle whines, pawing uselessly at Connor’s hip like he wants to keep him inside. Connor brushes his fingers through Kyle’s hair and gets up. 

Kyle lies there, unmoving, and he hears the water start running in the bathtub. His eyes slip shut and he drifts, not asleep but not really awake, either.

“Hey,” Connor says, his voice cutting through the haze. “Come wash up.”

Kyle’s legs barely support him enough to stand, so Connor sighs and scoops him up. Kyle squeaks, then laughs a little and pats Connor’s cheek fondly. Connor rolls his eyes, but his smile is warm.

They get in the bath together, Connor holding Kyle close and letting Kyle lean back to rest his head against Connor’s shoulder. Connor’s fingers trace loops over his sternum, back and forth and back and forth, light and slow and nearly hypnotic.

“I’m tired,” Kyle mumbles. He blinks, and the bathroom lights swim in his vision.

Connor kisses his neck. “I know, Kyle,” he says quietly. “We can sleep soon.”

“‘Kay,” Kyle agrees. He snuggles deeper into Connor’s embrace. The hot water eddies and swirls around him. The last aches bleed out of his muscles and he sighs. He finds Connor’s hand, catches it, twines their fingers together.

Connor lets him.

Tomorrow, Kyle will have to go home and clean up and go to bed alone. Next game, there’ll be a new first star, a new person picked. Maybe one will be Kyle. Maybe one will be Connor. Kyle doesn’t know.

For now, all he knows is that he’s holding Connor’s hand, and Connor is letting him.

For now, that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> heh.
> 
> ps i will continue to write kc getting railed until more people than miranda and myself are doing so because it's what he deserves
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/symphony7inAmaj)


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